Unknown
by breathing is over-rated
Summary: A regular night for the Baker Street boys, or not. As always, a rubbish summary so sorry about that


**AN- **Hey people, this is just a little fic. What can I say, I got bored.

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><p>Moonlight flecked on the bed sheet as Sherlock Holmes lay staring at the ceiling. He had finished his last case that morning and, with nothing better to do, had decided to rest his body. John had just come home from working the late shift at the clinic, the doctor footsteps were heavy and slightly clumsier than usual. <em>Must have been a gruelling shift.<em> His eyes flickered to the door. The kettle switched on and he smirked, John was always one for predictability.

A few minutes later, the detective heard footsteps again leading to his flatmates bedroom. _A very gruelling shift, he usually drinks his tea downstairs._ The doctors breathing became elongated and relaxed, Sherlock chuckled and sat up. _He's fallen asleep. _Though he found it amusing, the detective had the sudden incline to check on his flatmate. He stared at his door, trying to decided what to do. I something was wrong then it may be to late to do anything in the morning, however; if there was nothing wrong and John found out that Sherlock had been in his room while he'd been sleeping… Well, the doctor was prone to over reacting.

After a few seconds of consideration, the detective stood and slowly made his way to his flatmates room. He opened the door and stood for moment, watching the doctor sleep was something of a guilty pleasure. The solider lay still on his bed but he was folded, lying on this injured shoulder and still fully clothed. Sherlock smiled to himself and moved to make his friend more comfortable. For a man from the army, John was a remarkably heavy sleeper and Sherlock had no trouble getting him changed and beneath his bed sheets. The detective then closed the curtains so he wouldn't be woken when the sun rose and turned to leave the room. He remembered the cup of tea and turned to the bedside table where the doctor had somehow managed to place his mug before dropping out of reality. The detective picked it up and took it with him, no point wasting a quality cuppa. Though John liked his slightly too sweet for Sherlock's taste.

The doctors door clicked closed behind the detective and he made his way back to his own room, he was expecting a case soon and he did need some rest. The now empty cup was placed in the sink and the taller male made his way back to his bed. His body was already sinking into his sleep patterns as he slipped between his own bed covers. Something in the back of his mind called out to him but he couldn't quite connect the pieces as he drifted away.

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><p>Everything seemed slightly out of focus when Sherlock came round. His body seemed to be buzzing, like his nerves had all been shot. He mumbled obscenities as he tried to sit up. When he found he was unable to sit, the detective froze. He moved his finger and breathed a shaky sigh of relief. <em>It's not paralysis.<em> He then raised his head to look down. The quilt had gone but he was thankfully still in his night clothes. What intrigued him most was the various measures of restraints which kept him secured to the bed. His arms were trapped against his sides by several lengths of heavy duty rope and his hands had been chained down somehow. His legs were secured with much of the same but on of his ankles had been cuffed to the end of his bed. Sherlock laid his head back with a groan. _The tea._ He'd known something was up with it, but he was too late to work it out. No wonder John had fallen asleep so quickly. _Oh shit. John! _The detective struggled against his restraints_._

'No, nonononono. You don't want to be doing that, my dear.' A voice spoke from somewhere out of Sherlock's line of sight as a riding crop-_his riding crop-_flicked to his left shoulder and stilled him.

'Let me go.' The detective growled, his mind already running through every possible outcome of his predicament. It wasn't looking good.

'Uh… And why would I do that?' Sherlock's captor chuckled darkly. 'After all, we have so much to talk about.' The detective closed his eyes, an act that calmed him considerably. While in this state, something flickered into Sherlock's mind. Without opening his eyes, he spoke again,

'Where is John?' The room was silent for a few moments.

'Why don't you open your eyes and find out?' Though he didn't want to, something told Sherlock that he didn't have a choice and he opened his eyes. 'Good. Now turn to your right.' The detective decided to turn his head the opposite direction to find out who his captor was but was stopped by the crop which pushed his head the other way. 'Now, now, Shirley dear. You should know better than that.' Sherlock let his eyes follow where he was being pointed to see his doctor sat in the chair next to his bed, also in his night clothes. He was wide awake without a gag, the consulting detective let his confusion show on his face until he noticed the red lasers dotted about Johns person. They didn't need restraints holding him down or a gag to keep him silent, all they needed was three snipers fixed on him.

'Moriarty.' Sherlock whispered, just loud enough for the other men to hear. The consulting criminal clapped slowly,

'Well done, dear. Though, I thought you would have known from the sound of my voice.' The voice changed subtly to allow for the now present Irish accent. 'Still, we all know each other now.' Jim sat next to Sherlock, he trailed riding crop down Sherlock's body, stopping just over his stomach. John squirmed uncomfortably and tried to look away while his flatmate stayed perfectly still. Moriarty chuckled,

'Is something wrong, Johnny Boy?' When the doctor didn't reply, the psycho carried on, 'It's ok, you can speak when I ask you a question.' He waited again, impatience clear on his face. 'It's considered rude to ignore someone when they're speaking to you. But I suppose, I'll just have to find out what's bothering you some other way.' The riding crop began to carry on it's journey slowly downward.

'STOP!' The soldier burst out. Moriarty did and turn to look at him. 'Just stop it.' The psycho grinned evilly and moved the crop away, placing it on his knee.

'What's in it for me if I do?' He asked, a suggestive glance. 'What are you willing to do in trade?'

'Anything. Absolutely anything. Just let him go.' John was babbling and he knew it. From the look of the other two men's faces, so did they.

'John.' Sherlock warned through gritted teeth, though he felt the damage had already been done. Jim looked thoughtful for a moment then held out the riding crop in the doctors direction. John moved back slightly but reached forward to take the crop when he saw the look in the criminals eyes.

'Now then, I think you should untie our friend here.' John placed the crop of the chair then began to undo the various restraints. He was torn between getting the restraints off quickly and getting this over with and taking his time in the hope that some kind of miracle would happen. In the end, he decided to get it over with.

Within a minute Sherlock was sat on the bed, freed from all his restraints but feeling more trapped than he had been all night. Jim gestured for John to pick up the crop. With the lasers dancing around the room, the doctor didn't have to think twice. Jim smirked and leaned back,

'Why don't I put some things in perspective for you both-' Both men looked strickened but Moriarty carried on regardless,'- Sherlock; John broke up with his last girlfriend two weeks ago because he couldn't have sex with her, he didn't trust himself not to shout the wrong name. I'm sure you've heard him calling you but you've tried to block it out. He has proven he will do anything for you many many times, it's rather fun to mess around with to be honest.' The doctor was turning more scarlet by the second when Jim turned his attention to him. 'John; Sherlock watches you while you sleep. He is extremely possessive of you and has had more than a few people end up in not to good places for as little as insulting you. He desperately wants you but doesn't want to be rejected.' Sherlock cleared his throat and looked away, desperately trying to keep his face passive. Now that both his captives were equally blustered, Moriarty smiled brightly,

'Okay, Johnny Boy. The rest is up to you. Or Sherlock. I guess it depends who tops.' With a wink, the consulting criminal sauntered out of the room, closing it behind him. Oddly, the red lasers stayed. John, who was blushing violently, turned to face Sherlock, who was equally embarrassed but better at hiding it. Both men had questions on their tongues but the detective managed to spit his out first,

'You broke up with Sarah?'

'You watch me sleep?' Both men grinned and Sherlock lunged for his flatmate who failed completely to dodge out of the way and ended up sprawled on the foreign bedsheets. The doctor growled and used his considerable strength to force a change of postitions but he overestimated the power needed and the two men ended up rolling til they both fell of the bed, landing with a thump on the detectives carpet. Sherlock found himself lying flat on top of his flatmate. Both men stared into the others eyes and began laughing. The detective rolled off his partner, still in fits, and picked up the riding crop. John sat up, finally regaining his composure.

'What the hell just happen?' He asked, thoroughly confused. Sherlock mirrored Moriarty's evil smile,

'I have know idea. But I know what's going to happen now.'

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><p>Outside, a sleek black car waited patiently for the criminal mastermind to enter. Once Jim pulled the door closed, the vehicle drove away.<p>

'So it's done then.' The figure who sat opposite drawled, twirling the umbrella in his hands.

'Of course, dear.' Moriarty giggled as he straddled on the other mans lap. The umbrella was placed away from the men as a pair of hands found their way to the criminals waist.

'I have a meeting in ten minutes so make it quick.' The man said with an even tone. Jim hummed in content while the car jostled them both slightly, 'Yes sir.' The criminal said with a mock salute. 'After all, I'd do anything for you.' Mycroft Holmes chuckled a little too darkly,

'Tell me something I don't know.'


End file.
